As You Were
by Liete
Summary: -UK/US, PrUK, delinquent AU- 'It becomes routine, a change from Gilbert or the police or his worthless family, something Arthur almost looks forward to day after day, if only because Alfred's a nice distraction from the lousy reality that is his life.'


**As You Were  
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**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: This is a prequel to "As You Are" and also I'd like to give a warning for some potentially offensive material within.  
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* * *

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Words to live by: Life's a bitch and then you die.

That, and people will always find ways to disappoint you.

Arthur Kirkland takes the first words in stride, accepts that shit happens, so there's no point in wanting anymore than what you have. The second words he's bound and determined to avoid. He knows that people derive more satisfaction from suffering (of others) than they do happiness. So he expects nothing but the worst from everyone, avoids them unless he has something to gain or when he wants to help them with their love of suffering.

Because he's such a thoughtful, selfless guy like that.

There's a fire in one of the old neighborhoods, some apartment building. It's suspected arson, and Arthur's brought in, just because he happened to be around and the officer on duty is out for his blood.

Arthur sits in the interrogation room and lights up a cigarette while he waits for the officers to show up. The hardass with the long blond hair (the one out to get him) and his more easygoing brunet partner. The blond snatches the cigarette out of Arthur's mouth as he stomps in the door with that eternal air of unwarranted self importance and Arthur scowls. He hadn't even been halfway done.

"It's been awhile since you've called me in for something I didn't do, officer. I was beginning to think you didn't care," he says in a saccharinely sweet voice that oozes sarcasm.

"Now you listen, and you listen good, punk," the blond hisses and fists his hand in Arthur's shirt as he attempts to stare the boy down. "I know you did it, and this time I'll finally take you down once and for all."

Arthur remains carefully composed and lifts his chin slightly, not even close to breaking under the man's gaze. "And do you have evidence to link me to this crime? I believe that simply taking a walk isn't illegal."

The man's nostrils flare and he starts to shake Arthur violently. "You little-"

That's the brunet's cue to step in, and he does, he carefully eases his partner off of Arthur and sits him down. "Calm down there, buddy! He's right, you know. I don't like it either, but we can't keep him here without any evidence."

The blond swears, but acquiesces, glaring at Arthur with abject hatred. Arthur stares calmly back.

"You're getting off this time, but I assure you that I'll catch you one of these days. When I do, you'll never see the light of day ever again, you worthless, bottom-feeding punk."

Arthur ignores him and coolly turns his attention to the brunet. "May I leave now? My dear mother will worry if I'm out too late, you understand."

The blond looks fit to leap over the table and kill him, but the brunet interjects before there can be any violence. He turns to Arthur and nods. "Just remember that we're watching you."

"Of course, officer," he responds pleasantly, then rolls his eyes as they leave the room. That line about his mother is a load of bullocks. His whore of a mother had long abandoned him with his worthless son of a bitch of a father and his equally worthless brothers. She's probably out whoring herself at that very moment, if she's not dead in a ditch somewhere. He pulls on his coat and closes his hand appreciatively around the carton of cigarettes, then exits the room and ignores the dirty looks the other officers give him. Fuck what they think, they're too damned incompetent to do their jobs correctly in the first place.

Oh, he'd been at that apartment building, he'd been watching it for days. An eyesore, a festering hole of corruption, a place that deserved to be taken off the map. It had been awhile since he'd made headline news, anyway. All it had taken was a bit of lighter fluid and his trusty Zippo lighter to create a glorious blaze and then all he had to do was wait for the screams and the scurrying of the inhabitants inside trying to decide if their baby or their widescreen LCD television was worth saving more.

He'd been standing some distance away, humming "Rule, Britannia" while he watched the building go up, and then down, in flames.

* * *

"I've gotta make a stop somewhere real quick, all right?" Gilbert asks and doesn't wait for Arthur to respond before he takes off to wherever the hell it is he wants to go. Arthur tsks, but follows anyway. Gilbert's the one with the alcohol and drugs, after all, and their rendezvous usually lead to quick fucks to burn off excess frustration.

Gilbert isn't a friend or lover; to say Arthur even likes Gilbert would be a complete lie. The other teen is an asshole. Cocky and insufferable at best, but their relationship, whatever the hell it is, is convenient, which is why Arthur puts up with all of Gilbert's many shortcomings.

Gilbert leads them to a rundown, seemingly empty church and pushes his way inside while Arthur follows skeptically behind. Gilbert makes his way to the front where a display of various candles sits and Arthur walks up the aisle at a much more leisurely pace.

"A church, Beilschmidt? You really think 'God' will save you?" Arthur asks derisively with a sardonic grin.

"Not me, no," Gilbert replies with an equally sardonic smile on his face as he moves to light one of the candles. "But I'm hoping He'll listen to me on West's behalf."

West, of course. Arthur clamps his mouth shut to stifle any further comments on the matter. He can call Gilbert out on his many faults whenever he wants, but his younger brother is the one subject he cannot deride the Germanic boy for. He'd learned that the hard way when he'd mocked Gilbert for being soft when it came to his brother and had wound up with a broken jaw and his eye swollen shut because of it.

Arthur wonders, though, why Gilbert acts the way he does, although he can't and won't. He knows already that Gilbert comes from a well-to-do family. One of those types that seems ideal on the outside, but is falling apart on the inside, and that Gilbert's delinquency is an act of rebellion against their expectations. He is fond of his brother, however, but Arthur wonders, perhaps, if it's because Gilbert is so far gone into his deviant life that he keeps his distance.

He doesn't bother to think on it further, he just quietly leaves Gilbert with his ridiculous candles and prayers and smokes outside while he waits for the boy to finish. He'll almost certainly want to fuck Arthur senseless when he's done and Arthur will let him. He has his own frustration to burn off just thinking about how Gilbert is a pain in the ass, but he's still better off than he is because he has at least one person in the world he can genuinely care about.

* * *

Sometimes Arthur likes to wander into the more wholesome suburbs and see what he can pickpocket or, as is the case today, to loiter just to get a rise out of his dear fuzz, because they can never prove anything, but they like to try anyway.

He picks a restaurant where they serve those disgusting heart attacks on a bun they call hamburgers, the ones the people devour thoughtlessly like the pigs they are, and leans against the side of the building while the patrons of the restaurant walk past him, some hesitant, some annoyed.

"Bang," he remarks and mock shoots a man, whose face contorts in anger as he stomps into the establishment. Arthur smirks to himself and wonders how quickly he'll have the police called on him if he starts smoking, but he doesn't get the chance to pull his trusty carton out of his jacket because one of the employees comes out and approaches him. Some kid whose glasses are smudged with grease and whose expression is surprisingly pleasant for someone who is going to try to kick him off the premises.

"Hey there! Do you think you could move elsewhere? Some of the customers aren't very comfortable right now," he says, not maliciously, like it's a suggestion and not a demand.

Arthur stares at him, wondering if this kid is for real and if he really expects that he'll just up and leave because it was requested of him. Arthur scoffs and readjusts himself against the building, then stares expectantly at the other teenager, waiting to see how he'll react.

Said teenager purses his lips and scratches his head, then his eyes, which Arthur then notes are a very distinct shade of blue, light up. "Or why don't you come inside and try a burger? My treat!"

He supposes he should laugh at how ridiculous this boy is, but rather he's struck with just how _earnest_ he is, and honestly so. It's not an act like with most people, the way they'll pretend to be polite when they're really just being passive aggressive assholes. The small part of him that hasn't closed up completely yet compares the boy to sunshine. Bright, warm, dangerous to look at. For some reason it really pisses him off.

"Anyway, my name's Alfred, Alfred Jones!" he says brightly with a smile.

"Well then, fuck off, Jones," Arthur hisses. The smile falls right off Alfred's face as Arthur shoves off the building and stalks off. He feels inexplicably irritated and wonders if Gilbert will be around their usual haunt. He feels the need to punch that smug face in.

* * *

Arthur goes back, a move that baffles him. Perhaps it's just because he's still feeling affronted by their previous encounter and wants to tell Alfred to his face that he's a right infuriating prat, only in much harsher words. It's not like him to get so ruffled over someone kicking him off their property, to stew for days instead of shrugging it off and finding it marginally amusing like he does everything else. But then, he realizes, it's not that he's angry with Alfred.

Alfred is…interesting to him, although he has yet to define what "interesting" means in this context. He's almost certain it's not of a malicious nature, where he'd steal something of value to Alfred or damage a piece of his property because of something he said or did, but it's not of a kind nature either. Nothing is ever meant to be kind with him. Perhaps he just wants to know what it is that makes Alfred so honestly cheerful in such a fucked up world.

As he enters the restaurant, the patrons all freeze in fear. Arthur scoffs and ignores their accusatory gazes, he's not looking to get arrested today. From behind the counter, Alfred spots him and his eyes light up in recognition. Again, so damned _warm_, it's irritating.

"Oh hey, it's Eyebrows! Did you decide you wanted to try that burger, after all?" Alfred asks, and everyone looks at him in shock for speaking so pleasantly to the rotten delinquent in their midst.

"Call me that again. Go ahead," Arthur spits out, his tone full of vitriol. His eyebrows are large, yes, but no one comments on them unless they're fond of deadly games of chance.

Alfred just smiles and shrugs. "Well, you never gave me _your_ name, so I have to call you something, right?"

Arthur squares his jaw at the boy's audacity, but finds he can't bring himself to punch the bastard's face in. The restaurant patrons watch him fearfully for his next move, some tensing as if ready to flee if necessary.

"It's Arthur," he says, although he personally could care less about learning people's names or giving his out in return. There's really no point. But Alfred's smile widens, so clearly it matters to him.

"Arthur, huh? I think I like Eyebrows better."

Alfred's impudence, along with the cheeky smile on his face, make Arthur wonder all over again why he had bothered to return. In the end, Alfred really is like every other person in the world: a waste of time. He turns to leave, feeling thoroughly pissed off, but catches the briefest glimpse of panic on Alfred's face.

"Hey! You'll come back again, won't you?" Alfred calls after him.

Arthur pauses in the doorway, then quickly exits.

* * *

Although Arthur never returns to the fast food restaurant, he continues to make regular, near daily, trips to the suburbs. He tells himself it's because of all the things he can steal from parked cars that will fetch him quite the pretty penny if pawned, but even though he _does_ wind up looting some nice things, that's not really the reason he keeps coming back.

Alfred manages to find him every time, not that he makes it particularly difficult with how he spends his time in widely public areas like parks or outside stores. At first Arthur blows him off, not even bothering to mask his irritation, but Alfred is persistent. He goes out of his way to prove to Arthur that he's the warm, earnest person Arthur had assumed he was upon their first meeting, and with work he succeeds. Eventually Arthur just gives in and lets Alfred hang around him. Alfred likes to talk, and Arthur lets him. He simply lights up a cigarette and listens to Alfred chatter about inane things like school starting in the fall, his family and friends, sports, odd customers at the fast food restaurant, and how he wants to be a fireman or astronaut so he can be a real hero. Occasionally Alfred will prompt Arthur to reply to something he's said, but for the most part Arthur stays silent, and Alfred doesn't seem to mind. If Arthur were to talk, he'd only have his latest illegal exploits to speak of, or maybe his cynical views on life and society. Things a nice guy like Alfred wouldn't want to hear. It becomes routine, a change from Gilbert or the police or his worthless family, something Arthur almost looks forward to day after day, if only because Alfred's a nice distraction from the lousy reality that is his life.

"Smoking is bad for you," Alfred comments offhandedly one day and wrinkles his nose to show his distaste for Arthur's habit.

"No shit," Arthur remarks back and inhales his smoke and nicotine deeply. Alfred never brings it up ever again after that.

Summer turns into autumn with Arthur not taking much notice at first, that is until Alfred shows up one day in his school uniform, covered by that bomber jacket he had mentioned was an heirloom from some great great grandfather of some kind. Arthur recognizes the insignia on his blazer as that of one of the local private schools, the same one Gilbert's younger brother attends. Arthur has to snort in amusement that it is indeed a small world. Knowing Alfred, he's probably good friends with Gilbert's West.

It's then that the subject of what high school Arthur attends is brought up and Arthur responds honestly that he doesn't go to school, he doesn't _need_ to.

"Oh," Alfred replies with an unreadable expression and it bothers Arthur. What did the younger boy expect him to say? That yes, he wastes his time in school with people who lack any semblance of intelligence? That he thinks he has a bright future ahead of him? He smokes like a chimney and drinks like a fish. He's going to die young and he doesn't care. The ridiculous idealism of another teenager isn't going to change reality.

Still, Arthur's curiosity gets the best of him and he eventually finds himself going to the academy. He waits at the gate for Alfred, because they won't let him in. Students and authorized guests only, they say with a tone of condescension as they look him over, appraising him and deeming him unworthy of their time. Several days of that, along with the same looks he receives from the students, and Arthur has had enough. He states his intentions of becoming a student and is begrudgingly allowed to enter. In the office they are every bit as skeptical, but they're confident that they won't have to worry about him actually entering their hallowed grounds, so they give him his enrollment requirements. He'll need to fill out an encyclopedia's worth of paperwork, pass an entrance exam and fork over the necessary, and considerable, tuition, because it's too late to qualify for scholarships or financial aid. He suspects it really isn't too late, but they're not going to help him in any way if they can manage it.

He shows them, though. They think because he's a punk from the streets that he must be stupid, too. Instead he flies through their exam, and he knows he didn't miss a single answer. He used to spend his days in the library to avoid going home, so now he's more intelligent and well read than even most adults are. He fills out their paperwork and even manages to get his father to sign off on it when the old man is too drunk off his ass to give a shit what he's doing. The tuition money he acquires through more unsavory means. He pawns off his stolen items to the pseudo black market he frequents, sells what little drugs he has, and hands over the tuition with a smile and a tone that is so saccharinely sweet it even makes the principal look sick. But it happens; he's fitted for a uniform and enrolled as a senior.

Arthur sees very little of Alfred in the first week of his classes, although it's only natural with Alfred being a junior, and instead is introduced to a slew of people he doesn't want to know and who don't want to know him in return. Eventually he finds Alfred and learns of the people he is friends with. Gilbert's brother, Ludwig, is indeed one of Alfred's friends, along with many others that Arthur finds utterly insufferable. Most infuriating of all is the perverted Frenchman, who doesn't take to heart Arthur's threat to cut off his dick if he doesn't fuck off and Arthur finds that avoiding them and trying to coax Alfred into ditching them is a more desirable option.

Gilbert's eyes nearly bug out of his skull when Arthur shows up at their spot one day dressed in his uniform, having been too irritated to attempt to go home and risk running into his brothers to change. Then he bursts into laughter.

"Seriously? Fucking serious? Holy shit, that's fucking awesome! You're an academy brat now, Kirkland? Fucking awesome. You know you're going to regret it in a few days?"

He continues to laugh and babble such nonsense until Arthur punches his shoulder and tells him to belt up and hand over a joint. Gilbert snickers quietly, but acquiesces. They both sit smoking in silence, save Gilbert's occasional chortles, until the Germanic boy pipes up.

"Hey…you see West around there?" He tries not too sound too curious, but fails. It's plain as day how much he wants to know how his little brother is doing.

"He's an asshole just like you," Arthur replies and Gilbert doesn't say a word.

Arthur learns very quickly the sort of reputation Alfred has at the academy. He's well respected and well liked; a good student, the captain and quarterback of their American football team, an all around nice guy who is friendly to everyone and is willing to lend a helping hand where it's needed. But leave it to people to find a way to abuse a good thing, because he also hears the whispers that circulate when Alfred isn't around to hear them. They think Alfred is a joke, a naïve fool who is easy to take advantage of. It pisses Arthur off, but he can't act on his rage openly, not when it's a bunch of people who would easily have him locked up for life. Instead he finds out which cars belong to each brat, then he skips class and scratches intricate designs into the sides of their fancy cars they didn't buy with their own money with his keys. They want to blame it on him, but there's no evidence to back up such claims, so they can't prove a thing. He gets away with it, though the talk behind Alfred's back continues.

After a few weeks of putting up with classes and people he doesn't care about, Arthur finally deems to just skip class all the time and smoke on the roof. At the end of the day, he goes to find Alfred. Then they resume their previous routine of Alfred talking while Arthur listens. Only this way Arthur doesn't have to go far to find the other boy.

It's a lot of work and a lot of money for just one person, and Arthur knows it. After Arthur continues to show up in his school uniform, Gilbert seems to take notice, as well.

"You've really been hanging out at that prissy academy, haven't you? You fucking someone there or something?" Gilbert asks and takes a swig of the liquor he'd managed to swipe from some bumbling man who was pissed drunk and didn't even notice that his precious bottle had been stolen right out of his fingers.

"Not yet," Arthur replies after a short pause, and he remembers, yes, that is why he is spending so much time around Alfred, isn't it? Because he wants to fuck the boy. It's the only reason why he would actively subject himself to another person's company for extended periods of time. So it usually goes, but in this case, it's the first time the thought has even crossed his mind. He's always considered Alfred off limits, a different level of society he can ruffle, but not become involved with. But then, he already is involved with Alfred in a way, so he's already breached that barrier.

So then the question of _what_ Arthur is really seeking from Alfred rises, and Arthur doesn't have an answer. Instead, he swipes the bottle of liquor from Gilbert's hands and downs the rest in one gulp, ignoring the angry protests he gets in return. He doesn't want to think about anything anymore tonight.

* * *

Gilbert's words continue to bother Arthur for days, and though he continues to seek out Alfred, he stews in his thoughts while Alfred chatters blithely on.

But one day Alfred takes notice that Arthur is even more detached than usual. They sit on the roof, Arthur staring blankly at the pavement while his cigarette burns in his fingers, that is until Alfred calling to him brings him out of his reverie.

"Hey, Eyebrows, you all right? You've been kind of out of it lately, is something wrong?" Alfred asks with genuine concern in his eyes. Arthur is hit with a sudden desire to do something he'd never considered before.

Arthur stubs out his cigarette, then leans over and kisses Alfred on the mouth. The other boy freezes. Arthur figures that even Alfred's kindness has its limits and surely this will be enough to scare him off. He'll be disgusted that Arthur would even think to do such a thing, it's unnatural, it's wrong, other things Arthur has heard a thousand times before. Instead, he feels Alfred kiss back, with more eagerness than he's ever dealt with before. He cracks his eyes open to see that Alfred has his closed, he's pushing off the ledge and pressing against Arthur. He seems unsure of what to do with his hands, so he just places them on the ground.

Something abruptly snaps in Arthur and he pushes Alfred back so he can devour his lips with hungry kisses. Alfred makes a odd sound like a keening whimper that makes Arthur burn with desire for the younger boy, and he licks along Alfred's lower lip, the boy's mouth opening to yield to Arthur's tongue. Alfred even _tastes_ like sunshine, that is, if sunshine had a taste it would definitely be akin to Alfred's mouth. Arthur isn't sure whether to kill or thank Gilbert for making him realize that he's wanted Alfred all along, but never thought it an attainable possibility.

Arthur finally pulls away, reluctantly, to catch his breath and is greeted by a startling sight. Alfred's eyes are half-lidded behind askew glasses, his face flushed, one hand fisted in Arthur's jacket. That he reacted so strongly to just a kiss makes Arthur wonder about him, but he can't really be sure about his theory. Arthur wipes a trail of saliva from Alfred's mouth with a finger, making sure the other boy is watching him as he sticks the digit in his mouth and sucks on it, embellishing the gesture to see if he can get a reaction out of the younger boy. Naturally, the lewd display achieves the desired effect.

Alfred swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing as he does so, his already flushed face turning a brighter shade of red as a shuddering breath escapes his lips. Arthur removes the finger from his mouth and a sardonic smile forms in bitter realization. Of course, he should have realized it before.

Alfred is a virgin, and a painfully inexperienced one at that.

Arthur scoffs as he pulls himself away from Alfred, ignoring the bereft look on the other boy's face as he does so, and adjusts his clothes. It wouldn't be the first time he's taken someone's virginity, but those people were always the scum of society like himself, not a golden boy beloved by all. Arthur leaves Alfred without a word and he keeps walking even though Alfred calls after him.

He has a painful hard-on, and it's with a great deal of frustration that Arthur finds Gilbert, then demands that the asshole drop his fucking jeans _now_ and bends him over against a building in an alleyway.

Fucking Gilbert isn't nearly enough to satisfy his newfound lust for Alfred, but it will do for now.

* * *

Arthur doesn't even bother going to school for days after, because even just looking at Alfred will set off a now uncontrollable desire that Arthur doesn't want to deal with. Instead he falls back into his usual habits of picking pockets, putting up with Gilbert and seeing how far he can push the police before he crosses that line that spells an arrest. It's empty, but he's used to emptiness. It's better than thinking about Alfred, but practically anything is better than thinking about him. When he does think about that boy, his hand usually winds up down his pants while he imagines blue eyes clouded with desire beneath him and then he winds up so frustrated that he even engages his brothers, which only spells him getting beaten and ordered around.

He finally returns to school, as if he hopes that he'll learn to control his desire for Alfred if he's around him again. Alfred looks relieved when Arthur shows up again and motions for Alfred to follow him to the roof. Arthur lights up a cigarette when they get there, trying to ignore their close proximity and not be unnerved by Alfred's uncharacteristic silence. Arthur doesn't want to be the first to speak, but after awhile he doesn't need to worry about it, because Alfred finally speaks up.

"Listen, Arthur. I'm sorry about whatever I did. I just…really like you, you know? I'm just not very experienced with this sort of thing, so I must have screwed up somehow." Alfred looks sheepish and red-faced as he speaks, and he averts his eyes.

Arthur stares at him in shock, trying to parse his words. Alfred _likes_ him? Ridiculous. Nobody likes him, not even his family, but Alfred is always so infuriatingly honest that Arthur can almost believe him. He doesn't even both to stub out his cigarette that time. He just tosses it to the side and grabs Alfred roughly as he kisses him with everything he has. There's no way he can hold back now. Alfred clings to him and kisses back clumsily, but with equal enthusiasm.

Arthur grinds his hips against Alfred's and that's when the younger boy pulls away with a startled gasp. His eyes are wide and bewildered, and though Arthur doesn't want to say it out loud, he knows his eyes are conveying that he wants Alfred so badly it's driving him mad. Alfred swallows, then nods a bit hesitantly and Arthur abandons all pretenses of control. Alfred yelps as Arthur turns him roughly around and bends him over against the ledge of the roof and pulls down both of their trousers and boxers. He uses the lube and condom he'd been planning to use on Gilbert, because this…_Alfred_ is so much more desirable than that asshole, though in his haze of lust and raging hormones he forgets to be gentle and Alfred makes a pained noise as Arthur enters him. He can't stop, though, he just keeps going, bracing one hand against the ledge and wrapping the other around Alfred's waist.

Alfred's eyes are squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in obvious discomfort and his knuckles white from how tight his fists are, desperate squeaks the only sound he's making. He's in pain and isn't enjoying himself, Arthur notes, but there's no way he can stop now. It's the boy's own fault for being so damn fuckable and compliant.

He leans heavily over Alfred's back when he comes, breathing heavily against the boy's ear. Alfred shudders in reply, and it only takes a few moments for Arthur to realize that Alfred's come as well. He pulls out and cleans himself up quickly, then pulls up his trousers and somewhat hesitantly leaves Alfred to pull himself together as well. He takes what is certain to be his last glimpse of Alfred as he pushes through the doorway to the roof.

That will surely be enough to push Alfred for good.

* * *

Regardless, Arthur continues to show up at school, though he doesn't expect it will be for much longer. Alfred's face turns red every time their eyes meet and so Arthur avoids him. Eventually, to Arthur's great surprise, it's _Alfred_ who seeks him out and does that same red-faced, averted eyed thing he'd done on the roof when Arthur had sex with him.

"I screwed up again, didn't I?" he asks miserably, and Arthur can't believe it.

"You didn't," Arthur croaks in reply, cursing his own drop in defenses. He's so caught off guard by the fact that Alfred doesn't seem to be holding anything against him for what he'd done, that he thinks it's _his_ fault even.

Alfred really is one of those rare types who is completely genuine. It's both admirable and pathetic.

Arthur quickly regains his composure and detached air of indifference, and once again Alfred seems relieved. What Alfred doesn't know is that he's sealed his fate as Arthur's new fuck buddy.

Arthur remembers to be gentle this time. It's not about satisfying his overwhelming desire for Alfred, after all, so he can take it slow. He wants to make it enjoyable for Alfred, too, so he'll want to keep coming back for more. Just the thought of Alfred _wanting_ more makes Arthur shiver and he translates that into the attention he's lavishing on Alfred's bare chest. Alfred swears and shoves his fist into his mouth to muffle the noises he's making, but Arthur reaches up and pulls the hand away.

"No need to keep quiet," he says smoothly with a grin. Alfred's eyes widen and he throws his head back and gasps as Arthur dips his head against the contours of his stomach.

To Arthur, Alfred is absolutely intoxicating. He doesn't need alcohol or drugs when there's Alfred. How he tastes, how he smells, and those _noises_ he makes when something feels good. Arthur had never thought it possible that simple noises could have such a profound effect on him, but then nothing's ever affected him as much as Alfred, so there's really no comparing him to anyone else. This time Arthur pushes Alfred on his back so he can see that his face screws up in pleasure rather than pain as Arthur fucks him.

"Arthur, I lo-" Alfred starts to say, and in a panic Arthur clamps his mouth over Alfred's and swallows the words and his cry as he comes. He doesn't want to hear those words. They're an empty promise, and even if Alfred is usually honest, he can't possibly mean what he says if he utters those words. He sticks around to see Alfred's sated smile, but any plans of post coital cuddling are thwarted as Arthur sets about cleaning himself up and redressing. He does regard Alfred this time as he leaves and Alfred beams at him, apparently not bothered that Arthur is just leaving without a word.

Their routine becomes slightly modified afterwards. Arthur continues to seek out Alfred after school lets out and Arthur smokes and listens to Alfred's babbling, but more often than not their encounters end in sex. Arthur spends less time breaking the law, because Alfred is a much more welcome distraction. He even starts going to class again every now and then, because it passes the time he'd usually spend on the roof or in the parking lot waiting for school to end. Arthur might even dare call this…_thing_ they have satisfying.

"You wanna go get something to eat? Or maybe see a movie?" Alfred asks hopefully one day after another round of sex and Arthur raises an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

"I should think not," Arthur scoffs and averts his eyes so he doesn't see the crushed look on Alfred's face. Ridiculous boy, Arthur thinks. Just what does he think they are? This is not a relationship, it's just a distraction. That's all it is, so there's no need to pretend like it's something else. It would only lead to disappointment.

* * *

After a long separation, Arthur finally seeks out Gilbert again, though he's not sure why. His convenient involvement with the boy is no longer needed now that he has Alfred. Perhaps he misses his old life, or perhaps it's because he hasn't had a drink or smoked a joint in a long while. Whatever it is, he finds Gilbert, who rolls his eyes, but doesn't turn him away.

"Still frolicking with those pansies, are you? Well, I managed to swipe some 190-proof Everclear, so you came at a good time."

They toss back the highly alcoholic drink and start to loosen up and Gilbert inevitably starts ranting about how fucking awesome it is to be alone, but that he wonders how West is getting on without him. Eventually he starts coming onto Arthur, who is not so far gone that he gives in.

He shoves Gilbert away and ignores the momentarily affronted look the other teen gives him. It's a change, he knows, for him to turn down casual sex with Gilbert or anyone he normally goes to, but now Arthur finds that he doesn't want to have sex with anyone but Alfred, _won't_ sleep with anyone who isn't Alfred. At least, that's how it will be until he finds the next interesting person to occupy his time, because Alfred is temporary. Of course he is. Arthur doesn't form relationships with people, least of all people like Alfred. He's never done it before and he's not about to start doing it now.

"It's that Jones kid, isn't it?" Gilbert remarks, breaking Arthur's train of thought, with a knowing, but still derisive smile.

Arthur freezes and doesn't say anything, but apparently his silence is far more telling than words could ever be, because Gilbert laughs, though not in a jovial manner.

"I knew it. Fucking hell, I knew it. That how you get your jollies now, Kirkland? Fucking kids who might have had a good future before you decided to step in and fuck it up?"

Arthur slams Gilbert against the brick of the building and smirks at Gilbert as he gets in his face and all too happily returns the sentiment. "It's the same with you, isn't it? You and that little brother of yours? I'm almost certain you would _love _to corrupt him-"

Unbridled rage forms on Gilbert's face and he slams his fist into Arthur's nose before he can continue. They fight, fists and feet flying, and eventually a knife enters the fray. Arthur finally backs off when Gilbert gets a clean swipe at his face and drops of blood stain the already filthy pavement beneath them. Arthur pants and wipes the blood away with his sleeve, the two staring at each other for a few tense moments, and then Arthur leaves without a word.

He knows and he doesn't care that he won't be seeing Gilbert ever again, but still he doesn't look back, lest he regret it.

* * *

Perhaps it's because he's so fucking drunk that he's not thinking clearly, or maybe it's because Gilbert's words got to him, but Arthur finds himself at the church that he'd visited with the other delinquent once upon a time. After a moment's hesitation he pushes his way inside.

He doesn't know what he's doing, but he walks up the aisle towards the display of candles. He's corrupting Alfred, isn't he? A nice guy who has a bright future ahead of him that maybe be tarnished by his involvement with a rotten person like Arthur Kirkland, who has no redeeming qualities to speak of. There's no turning back now, though. They're too deeply involved in whatever it is they have.

He stares up at the Virgin Mary statue above the display of candles and smirks.

"Do you think you have enough room for him up there even after what I've done?"

And he lights a candle.


End file.
